


Bombay

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Animal Play, Collars, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 12:07:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13457922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis is a very spoiled kitty.





	Bombay

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Noctis loves being a kitty and getting spoiled rotten by his lover. -Noctis in kitty ears and tail with maybe a collar and kitty paws. No clothes. -Getting all of the pets and cuddles. -Noct being handfed yummy fish and no yucky veggies. -Sex that focuses on Noct's pleasure. -Bratty kitty Noctis being annoying if his lover paying attention to anything else besides him.” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4398.html?thread=8650542#cmt8650542).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The apartment thermostat is up unusually high, needed to compensate Noctis’ utter lack of clothing—unless, of course, his gear counts. He doesn’t imagine it does; none of it provides any practical application, especially when he’s home all alone, but he still likes the way it _feels_ , and he likes knowing that when his owner arrives, he’ll be all ready.

But thinking of his owner makes him frown, and Noctis shoots off another text— _where are you?_ When the reply takes too long to come, he adds a picture—a snapshot of his displeased face, zoomed out enough to show the black collar around his throat and the slick cat ears protruding from his headband. The band itself is swallowed up in hair just as dark as the faux-fur on the accessory, so it really does look like they’re just springing out of him—like he’s really _part cat_ instead of all Lucian prince. As soon as that picture’s off, his phone vibrates with its reply: _Eep, down, boy! I’m on my way. ;)_

Noctis scrunches his nose— _on the way_ isn’t good enough—but it’ll have to do. So he flicks over to a game of King’s Knight and rolls onto his stomach, namely to give his rear a rest—when he lies on his back, his long tail digs into the couch, and it forces the thick plug inside him to jam all the way up, hard and unforgiving. It makes him more conscious of it. Sometimes, Noctis likes that. But not when he could be waiting even longer—no sense getting all worked up with no one to unleash on. Although, having his bare cock nestled against the soft cushions isn’t all that better. He tries to keep his hips still, keep his interest to a minimum. But every so often, he fidgets on purpose, just to feel the tiny metal pendant hanging from the center of his collar bounce against his chest. He wonders vaguely if he should fetch the velvety gloves he has hidden in a familiar box beneath his bed—they’re sewn together just like paws. But then, that’s for heavy play, and he needs the use of his fingers right now so he can pass the time. And so he can pester his ‘master.’ He sends another picture, this one with his mouth wide open and the caption: _Please bring me some milk~_

There’s no answer to that one, but barely a minute later, he hears the front door open. If he were a dog, he’d go running to it, pawing up his partner and demanding instant fun. 

But Noctis is a cat with far too much dignity for that, so he stays just where he is, lounging across the couch like he was built to be there. He does click off his phone and set it aside on the coffee table though, just so he can strike a better pose. He puts more arch into his back, lifting his hips slightly off the couch, his bare ass all exposed and his long tail draped down between his thighs. He stares right at the doorway.

Prompto waltzes through it, then freezes on the spot, blue eyes wide at Noctis. Noctis can’t help preening under the attention: Prompto always looks at him like he’s the most delectable creature in their entire world.

Then Prompto lets out a long breath and dons a wide grin. He marches right over, his bag still slung over his shoulder, and chuckles on the way, “Got started already? And up on the couch, when you know Iggy doesn’t let pets sit on the furniture! Bad kitty!” 

Noctis just snorts at the scolding. He makes a show of stretching out, deliberately being bratty, because he isn’t just any stray off the street—he’s still a _royal_ cat, after all, and he’s perfectly entitled to lounge wherever he might like. Besides, he knows Prompto will let him get away with it. Prompto’s easy to manipulate, at least for Noctis; Prompto always spoils him. And Noctis _loves_ being spoiled.

He’s pleased when Prompto comes right over to him, smacking his ass to signal him to move. Noctis grunts and does get up on all fours to crawl away, giving Prompto room to join him. But then Noctis is shifting right back, sidling into Prompto’s lap with a familiar grace and ease. He lets one hand cling to Prompto’s shirt, fingers curling into the fabric like a set of claws, and his face buries into Prompto’s throat, nuzzling and purring. Prompto laughs and threads a hand into his hair, brushing back between his ears. 

Maybe once, when they were still fresh and new, this seemed a little strange. By now, Prompto’s so very _good_ at it. He seems to know just what Noctis wants, and he pets Noctis in broad, full strokes, paradoxically both pleasantly relaxing and thorough invigorating. Noctis’ purring is a very real noise—if there’s one thing Noctis loves, it’s being pet, especially by someone with long, talented fingers that knows all the right spots to make him squirm. Prompto’s also wondrously warm after the emptiness of the apartment, and his fingerless gloves add an extra thrill as the leathery texture smoothes across his skin. For a long moment, they just cuddle, Noctis touch-starved and eager for it, Prompto seemingly happy to oblige.

But then Prompto drops one hand to start fishing in his bag, and when his gaze turns aside to it, Noctis hisses. Prompto chirps, “Just give me a minute, okay? I want to go over a few shots I got on the way here.” Noctis wrinkles his nose—he never likes when his owner pays attention to anything but _him_. 

Prompto must know that, because he keeps scratching behind Noctis’ ear with the other hand, but that isn’t enough. Noctis wants _all_ of Prompto’s attention. Prompto draws out his camera, eyes lost in its tiny screen, and Noctis whines and lightly butts his forehead against Prompto’s jaw. Prompto just snorts and keeps ignoring him, so Noctis resorts to pawing incessantly at Prompto’s chest, huffing in annoyance and whining loudly, until Prompto finally puts the camera down. Grinning with new laughter, Prompto kisses his cheek and teases, “Jeez, needy, much?” 

Noctis just rubs against Prompto’s hands until they’re both petting him again, though this time, one trails down his chest to rub across his stomach. Noctis likes belly rubs just as much and thrusts into Prompto’s hand. It earns him a hitch of breath as his free cock slips over Prompto’s clothed lap, a bulge already forming there. It always does when Noctis greets him like this. If Noctis were a human that could talk instead of Prompto’s favourite pet, he’d probably rag on Prompto for the eagerness.

But he can’t, so he just grinds himself into Prompto’s lap as Prompto showers him in affection. It’s the sort of thing so hard to come by for a prince, one always kept at arm’s length from the world, with only his shield and his advisor around to so much as address him without a title. Sometimes. Until Prompto came around. And Prompto treats him perfectly—like a _human being_ , a friend, a _best_ friend, and finally: a pampered pet. Noctis adores every minute of it.

And he gets snippy when Prompto diverts to his bag again, but this time he promises, “Hey, you’ll like this one.” 

Sure enough, Prompto pulls a small box out of the bag, one that Noctis is all too familiar with. He perks up over it, and if his ears were real, they’d be perking too. He waits in Prompto’s lap as Prompto fiddles open the top and reaches around Noctis to pour a large, fish-shaped biscuit into his palm. Noctis immediately ducks to try and catch it in his mouth, but Prompto jerks his hand out of reach, chuckling, “Hey, not yet!” Noctis pouts, and Prompto tsks, “Now, now—you know treats are for _good_ kitties. And you know you’ve been naughty, getting up on the furniture when your owner’s not around.” Despite his words, he kisses Noctis’ forehead. Noctis grumbles.

Yet he listens, because he wants that treat, more for what it symbolizes that even the taste, and it’s more fun when he earns it. He turns to crawl carefully off Prompto’s lap, down onto the floor, making sure that Prompto gets a good view of his ass on the way. His tail hangs limply down the middle, obscuring his crack, but he knows his firm cheeks are still enough to arouse Prompto’s interest. By the time Noctis is settled on the floor, Prompto’s cock is straining against his dark-wash jeans. Noctis wants _that_ treat. But in this mode, he doesn’t pamper anyone—his master pampers _him_.

Prompto holds out the cookie, rumbling huskily, “Good kitty.” Noctis hums in the back of his throat, producing his own purr, and leans in to pluck the treat right out of Prompto’s palm. He stays nuzzled up to it while he chews, letting the crumbs tumble past his lips and onto Prompto’s glove, where he can wantonly lick them up again. He even laps at Prompto’s fingers, cleaning up between them. The biscuit’s a sweet vanilla flavour, but he enjoys the salty tang of Prompto’s skin just as much. He laves over Prompto’s covered lifeline, and Prompto produces a second cookie, one that Noctis eats out just as messily. 

As Prompto hand-feeds him a third biscuit, Prompto mutters, “See, aren’t I a good master?” Noctis’ eyes flicker up, burning into Prompto’s gaze as his tongue keeps busy with Prompto’s hand. When he’s determined that this isn’t a moment of self-doubt in Prompto, just more of the game, he returns his attention to Prompto’s fingers. Prompto carries on: “I’d like to think you’d rather be mine than anyone else’s... _I_ only feed my precious kitty nice fish—never any yucky vegetables.” 

Noctis grins, holding back his laugh, and diverts past Prompto’s hand to rub against his knees. Prompto shifts them open, letting out a husky noise. Noctis understands. He’s getting there himself. He isn’t fully flaccid anymore, and the more he nudges between Prompto’s spreading legs, the warmer he feels. Then he’s as tight between them as he can get, his cheek pillowed on Prompto’s thigh, and Prompto pets through his hair again and murmurs, “ _Good boy._ Such a good boy for me...” A shiver runs down Noctis’ spine. He wants Prompto badly.

And he knows just how to express that. It takes a tremendous amount of willpower to pull away from Prompto’s touch, but he does in the name of bigger pleasures. He turns around, back to Prompto, still on his hands and knees, and lowers his face down to the carpet. He can hear Prompto’s breath catch. With his ass still held up in the air, Noctis spreads his legs. He arches into it, pebbled nipples nearly brushing the floor, cheek cushioned against his arms. He lets Prompto soak in a good view, and then he jerks his hips back, rolling them quickly, hard enough that his limp tail flicks up, landing over his spine as he moves into it. It slips along his tailbone and slumps off to the side, but that’s enough. Noctis holds his cheeks as much apart as he can, flexing all his muscles into the pose, knowing that now Prompto can clearly see his puckered hole, wet and glistening with lube, plugged up by the tail’s base. Prompto won’t have to actually see it to know what’s hidden in Noctis’ channel, because he’s the one that bought it for Noctis: a big rubber dildo with a clip on the end for the tail. Noctis wages his rear, hoping Prompto likes it.

Prompto swears under his breath. That means he does. Noctis looks over his shoulder to see Prompto clambering off the couch, down behind Noctis, hands already on his belt. He’s got his pants open in a heartbeat, and Noctis watches in lazy fascination as Prompto eyes up his prize.

With his cock freed, Prompto reaches for Noctis’ ass, running over it to squeeze and knead the tender flesh—Noctis groans and pushes into it. Prompto mumbles, “Good boy,” and plays with his ass a bit before finally sliding both hands up to the plug. Noctis can feel when Prompto takes hold of it. 

Then Prompto sighs, “I hate having to move your tail, baby...but you’re being such a good kitty for me right now, you really deserve another treat...” Noctis rolls his hips into Prompto’s touch. That earns him a chuckle and a kiss against his left ass cheek. 

Then the dildo’s moving, slowly being dragged out of his channel, and Noctis instinctively clenches down and tires to hold on. At Prompto’s ‘tsk,’ he tries to relax. But he hates feeling empty after, and it’s sad to have his nice tail slithering down his side to pool along the floor. He over, giving it a forlorn look, but he knows it’ll all be worth it. Prompto takes hold of both hips. The spongy head of Prompto’s cock presses against his leaking entrance, and Noctis makes a noise suspiciously like a pleading ‘ _meow_.’

Prompto rewards him for it by slamming in, hard and quick and all at once, and Noctis would probably topple over if his arms weren’t already on the floor. He cries out at the intrusion, even though he was already stretched and opened, slicked up and wanting—it’s just _a lot_ , and the real thing is so much _different_ than a plug. _Better_. Warm and thick and pulsing, Prompto rocks into him, driving home, while Noctis pants and croons.

It takes a bit of rocking in and out for Prompto to truly settle, buried balls-deep in Noctis’ twitching ass. Noctis’ hips have already started to tremble, as they often do when Prompto fills him, because Prompto always fills him up _so good_. Prompto keeps one set of fingers digging into Noctis’ hip, and the other reaches forward to pet the back of Noctis’ head. He repeats, “Good kitty,” and slips the other hand below.

He finds the base of Noctis’ cock and gives it a little squeeze, which has Noctis crying out again and bucking into it. Prompto grunts but doesn’t scold him, just takes a quick hold of Noctis’ cock. He’s always good about that. Even though Prompto is the master, Noctis is the _beloved pet_ , and he’s the one that’s showered in attention. Prompto always makes it good for him. Prompto’s hand is slick with a stray bit of lube, and he starts to faithfully pump Noctis with it, smooth and steady, just how Noctis likes. 

Then his hips start to move, slowly withdrawing the long cock from Noctis’ ass, only to slam it forward again, and Noctis moans and fidgets and thrusts into Prompto’s every touch, both his hands and cock. Prompto works up to a firm beat, matching the rhythm in both places. He plugs Noctis right up, leaves him half empty, and drives him to the edge again, all the while working his shaft, his balls bouncing tight between them. Noctis doesn’t have to do a thing but luxuriate in the deliriously _good_ sensations. Prompto never stops.

Prompto does all the work, driving into him and stroking him, even bending down to nuzzle against the side of his face and mutter into his human-ear: “You feel so amazing, pet. You’re so well-behaved for me... so tight, even after you had that big plug inside you... fuck, you’re perfect...” Noctis moans, loving the praise, and Prompto pours more into him, rambling on: “So pretty... you’re the _best_ kitty I could hope for... would’ve paid anything for you... you deserve _everything_ —I’m gonna pet you all night and scratch your cute tummy and feed you all sorts of cream...”

Noctis’ voice breaks—he’s getting close—and a part of him wants to warn his owner, but the rest of him stays firmly in the game, lost in their giddy fun, and instead he just slams himself back onto Prompto’s cock and pants for air.

Prompto squeezes his cock, and Noctis loses it—he bursts all over Prompto’s fingers and paints his own carpet, some of it splattering up his chest. Noctis doesn’t care. He’s dizzy with his orgasm, and he humps Prompto’s hand as Prompto pumps him out, still murmuring praise and now littering his shoulder and cheek in kisses. He comes more than he ever does when he’s _Prince Noctis._

Prompto keeps fucking into him, but only for a few thrusts, because that’s all it takes before Prompto’s coming too, filling Noctis right up with cum. Noctis clenches down to try and help, also because he wants to hold onto it. He wants to be stuffed with Prompto’s seed, and have it left to ease the dildo in when they put his tail back. He’s incomplete without it.

But he’s complete when he’s joined with Prompto. As spoiled and selfish as he is, Noctis keeps his ass up for his owner to use until Prompto’s all milked out. Then Prompto gives a shuddering breath and pulls himself free, leaving Noctis to whine and collapses down to the floor. He writhes in place for a moment before he remembers to roll onto his stomach—he doesn’t want all of Prompto’s seed leaking out.

Prompto falls down next to him, looking over with bleary eyes, like Noctis is this mystical, magnificent being that Prompto’s _so_ grateful for. On a whim, Noctis leans over to lick the tip of Prompto’s nose.

Prompto scrunches it and laughs. Then he pulls Noctis right into his arms, and the two of them cuddle on the floor, spent and satiated.

It’s a good few minutes before Prompto asks tiredly, “So, kitty... wanna lick up your cream?” Noctis rolls his eyes and lightly head-butts him again. Prompto chuckles and kisses him.

Noctis kisses back. It’s a weird kink of his, he knows, but he can’t express how pleased he is that Prompto plays along, not just that, but _well_ —the most indulgent, sweetest master he could hope for. He never regrets wearing _“Property of Prompto”_ on his collar. And best of all, he doesn’t have to say it. He can just cuddle into Prompto’s arms, quiet but content, while Prompto pets him.

Prompto does, and Noctis purrs.


End file.
